


Toxic Thoughts

by Deviant_Donghun



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [27]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dad!Virgil, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Logic | Logan Sanders Has ADHD, Vent fic?, adhd person writes adhd characters, familial analogical - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Donghun/pseuds/Deviant_Donghun
Summary: Logan has ADHD. And sometimes, that's okay. But others, it's the most frustrating thing on earth. He struggles through life with his adoptive father at his side, helping where he can. Loosely based on the song Toxic Thoughts by Faith Marie.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962379
Kudos: 28





	1. Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> This will be slow to update as this is loosely based on my own life and struggles.

Logan crumpled the paper with only a few lines on it, tossing it behind him and letting it fall among the others. He didn’t turn back to pick it up, no matter how bothersome it was going to be later. He didn’t even look at it, just started on the next page. He didn’t notice the room growing dark around him, the only light coming from the hash yellow of his desk lamp. 

He stared at the next page, his brain filling with thoughts of failure but unwilling to stop. He felt trapped in an endless cycle of failure but had no way of getting out. He put his pen to paper, knowing what he wanted but not knowing how to get it to come out in a manner that others could understand. So, he tried. He tried again and again and again, he tried to get his words down on the page in a meaningful way.

A knock at the door sounded but Logan didn’t hear it. He didn’t notice anything except the music blasting through his headphones and the words on the pages, the words scattered on the floor. A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, slipping the headphones down and letting the music fill the room. Piano and violin, cello and oboe, Bach’s carefully planned sheets coming to life within the confines of modern technology now being set free.

Looking up, he was met with a dark room and a father standing by his side, looking over his work as he waited for a response from his son. “Dad? Did you need something?”

Virgil looked at him, a soft smile sitting on his face. “Just the evening reminder to eat, college student.”

A sinking feeling hit Logan’s stomach. It was more than just the realization that he was hungry, it was the feeling that always came when he was reminded what stage of life he was in. It was the feeling that came when he was reminded of the standards he set for himself that he was failing to meet, the understanding that he was at least three years behind his peers in both social and academic standards, no matter that he was already working through his general education prerequisites at sixteen, no matter that he was still in high school but was already starting on college. He knew he was behind, it was his driving force for most of his academic career as soon as he learned that fact. He wished he was told more about himself at a younger age, told that it was okay to not want friends, to know he was behind in social skills. He knew it wasn’t his father’s fault, after all, how could the most recent foster (adopted now) parent tell him anything during his childhood.

“Logan?” Virgil’s voice dragged him out of his thought process, reminded him of the hole in his stomach that needed to be filled with food.

Logan looked up at Virgil, putting his pen down. “Yeah, food sounds good.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. You want anything in particular?”

Logan did. He really wanted mac-n-cheese. He also really wanted not to be a burden so just shook his head. He knew it was irrational and illogical to not tell Virgil his wants. He knew it was no use as Virgil wouldn’t see him as a burden and would love to make him food. He also knew that bad habits die hard.

Virgil nodded, his smile growing. “How about grilled cheese? Is that okay?”

Logan nodded. Grilled cheese was his other comfort food. “That’s fine.”

Virgil frowned. “Are you sure?”

Logan felt frustration bubble up inside of him like tar, something he could easily get stuck in if he wasn’t careful. He took a subtle deep breath. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. Do you want to come down while I make it or do you want me to get you when it’s done?”

Logan thought about it. He knew he would get dragged back into his hyperfixation if he was allowed to stay here. He also knew that he might lose the train of thought if he were to stop. Finally, he shrugged and stood. He couldn’t find the words anyways so why worry about losing the train of thought that never left the station. He followed Virgil back downstairs and watched as he grabbed the things he needed to make food.

“So,” Virgil attempted to make small talk, “what were you working on?”

“I need to write a poem for my english lit. class.”

Virgil nodded. “Butter or olive oil?”

“Butter. I just can’t think of any words. It’s like there’s too few parameters and too many at once.”

Virgil hummed in thought. “First thing’s first. What are the parameters?”

“It needs to be in iambic pentameter. Other than that, there’s nothing! No set subject, no set length, nothing!” He moved around the island, grabbing a glass and the juice. 

Virgil looked over at him. “Would you get me a glass of that too, please?”

Logan nodded and grabbed another. “I just don’t understand why professors will assign something with so little instructions. Am I supposed to have figured out how to be self sufficient after the rest of the school system drained it out of me?”

Virgil snorted. “That’s a bit drastic, even for me, Lo.” He turned, grabbing another few slices of bread while briefly looking at his child. “It could also just be that most neurotypical people understand how to follow the bare minimum of instructions. Do you need me to pick a subject or length?”

Logan shook his head. “No, I’ll need to do it eventually and I might as well learn now.”

Virgil sighed, turning the stove off and coming to rest a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Look, when I adopted you, I knew things like this were going to happen. I knew what I was getting into even before I decided to foster you. Your thoughts and feelings are valid. It might take you a bit longer than your peers to understand yourself and that’s fine. Life isn’t a race and you are in no way a failure for taking things at your own pace.”

Logan’s shoulders shook, tears rolling down his face as he tried to screw the cap back onto the juice bottle. Virgil gently took his hands and turned his son to face him, giving him a hug. He ran his hands up and down Logan’s back in a soothing manner. “Yes, you deserve to take life at your own pace. But you also deserve to be alright, to sleep at night. You shouldn’t have to wonder why you are different and I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you sooner. I’m sorry you had to go through life thinking you weren’t good enough. You are allowed to feel the emotions you do.”

Logan clung to him, tears wetting Virgil’s shirt but neither cared. Virgil hugged him tightly but not enough that he got sensory overload. Logan held on as if he were falling and Virgil was his lifeline. When he finally calmed down, neither pulled away. Virgil still hugged him, not caring about the cold food. Logan basked in the feeling of being loved and safe.

When they did pull away, Virgil allowed Logan to do it first. He pulled his hoodie off and threw it over Logan’s shoulders, dwarfing the skinny teen in the bulky fabric. “I’m gonna finish making dinner. How about you pick out a movie and we can watch it. Your homework can wait.”

Logan nodded, moving from the counter to the living room and kneeling by the movie rack. “How about _The Sound of Music?_ ” He called.

“Sounds good to me.” Virgil called back.

Logan smiled, walking back in and hopping onto the counter. Virgil looked over at him and smirked. “That kind of day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I think your new puzzle box came in the mail while you were at school.” Virgil nodded toward the table with a package sitting on it. “Maybe you can try to solve it while we watch the movie.”

Logan smiled. “You know, most parents wouldn’t be this chill with things like this.”

“Like what?”

“Homework being put off for no reason-”

“You are mentally exhausted and are heading toward burnout. You need other activities to recharge your batteries.”

“Other parents also wouldn’t deliberately suggest something else for their child to do when spending time together. Most would complain about the child not paying attention.”

Virgil smiled as he plated. “Yeah, well, I’m not the typical parent and you’re not the typical child. I adjust to your needs, you shouldn’t have to adjust to my whims.”

Logan’s eyes misted over and he slid off the counter to grab his plate and the package, stuffing it under his arm to grab his drink and carry everything into the living room for a family night. He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen scribbling the idea that just came to him onto the paper so he doesn’t forget.

Virgil walked into the room and sighed. “I thought I said homework could wait.”

Logan shrugged. “Inspiration comes when it comes.”

Virgil nodded. “Fair.” He set his things down and put the movie in as Logan put his thoughts down on paper. 

The rest of the evening was calm, eventually both ending up in the same corner of the couch as they bonded. It made Logan realize that maybe perfection might be unattainable but it’s something to strive for, even if the ultimate goal is to see the proud smile cross Virgil’s face again. 


	2. Classes

Logan sat in his room, staring at the tablet sitting on his desk as he ignored the tears streaming down his face. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was past the time he was told he could come to his father for this. Sighing, he sat back and swiped at the tears. “I should be better than this.” He muttered as he tried to direct his attention back to the screen. 

On it was the site that belonged to the college he went to. The page currently pulled up was for the course list as he tried to figure out what the next classes he was going to take was. This had been a frustrating venture as his lack of awareness of time had led him to the last few days to sign up and now he was pushing himself to do it but the site was convoluted. 

He glanced down at the paper sitting beside him that listed the classes he’d already taken, the one he’d failed crossed out and hidden under a sticky note. Farther down the page were the classes he was thinking about taking. Under the page was another with a list of classes that would be transferable and help him get his AA. It didn’t help all that much as it was clearly out of date but he assumed it would be good enough. Still, he could make no sense of the sight and he was meeting his enrollment advisor the next morning, he had no time to waste figuring it out. So, he took out his frustration on himself in the form of tears and pounding on the keyboard with no real outcome in mind. HIs frustration only heightened when he still had to see if the class was on the right campus and if it had times that would correlate. Some classes didn’t have the times listed, others didn’t have any room, still others had extra costs attached that weren’t revealed easily and Logan had no idea where to go to find that. 

A hand ran through his hair, yanking on the ends of it slightly in an attempt to focus. Allowing his hand to pull his head back, he stared at the plastic stars that covered his ceiling in a perfect replica of Ursa Major. Taking a few deep breaths, he recentered himself and looked back at the screen, the world going dark on the other side of his window. 

He kept switching between the tabs, trying to keep the frustration at bay while still getting his task done. Once he finished this, he could focus on finishing the puzzle he’d been doing in a corner of his room. He got one class done, the one class he really wanted to do. His anxiety spiked at the understanding that this one required extra fees but he tried to push that down. The chemistry class he’d been meaning to take was full which caused him to let out a groan of frustration that, unbeknownst to him, slipped out his open door. He crossed that class out of his list and went to his second option for a class with a lab. 

A floorboard creaked outside and his head shot up, eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights’ would be. The tear tracks on his cheeks were still prominent and he could still feel them welling up in his eyes even as they locked with his father’s outside the door.

Virgil sighed when he saw the tears, the scattered pages, the tablet. He pushed the door open and came to sit next to Logan, pulling a chair up to sit at his desk with him. “What’s the frustration about now?” HIs voice was soft as he gently turned the tablet to see what was on it.

Logan sniffed and hiccupped as he tried to stall his tears. “I’m sorry, I know I should be able to do this on my own. I can do better, I promise.”

Virgil sighed. “Logan, I told you to come to me with this. I asked you to let me help.”

Logan nodded, fresh tears spilling out. “I know. But I thought I had it and you were on a phone call with Uncle Patton. Then I took a shower to try to deal with my frustration as well as to get ready for the meeting tomorrow. We passed in the hall but I wanted to put my towel away before we talked and . . . and . . . and . . .”

Virgil nodded, understanding lighting in his eyes. He wrapped an arm around Logan, pulling him in to put his head on his shoulder. Virgil’s other arm came up to curl around his teenage son, his hand going to rub through his damp hair. “Okay. I’ll admit, I should have asked if you had it when we passed in the hall. That’s my fault, I didn’t consider your need properly. I’m sorry.”

Logan sniffled but melted into the hug, allowing himself the comfort he needed. He finally stopped holding back the tears, letting them flow freely with the knowledge that his father would be there to catch them, and him, when they fall. They stayed like that for a while, Logan blowing off the steam that’d been building and Virgil simply holding his child. 

When Logan calmed, Virgil pulled back and used his sweater paw to wipe the tears away. “Now, let’s figure this out together, okay?”

They sat there, figuring out how to use the site together. It took them awhile but they eventually figured out the class plan that felt best for Logan at the time in his life he was in. When they finished, Virgil smiled softly at Logan. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling like some gummies and a puzzle.”

Logan smiled back, tired but content. “It’s like you can read my mind sometimes.”

Virgil chuckled. “How so?”

“You came at the exact moment I was about to quit, you suggested my favorite snack and destressor, and you always seem to know just what to say to help.” He shook his head. “How do you do it?”

Virgil shrugged. “The first part was actually coincidence. I’d gone down to get a glass of water and saw your light still on. The other is simple. I know you and I’ve adapted to you. I know what helps you and am offering it in a way that lets you know you are loved. Which is true, I love you so much.”

Logan dove back in for a second hug, squeezing his father tight in his arms, not caring that they weren’t blood related. All he cared about was that this man knew him in ways no one else had bothered to try to know him. Virgil laughed and hugged him back, unaware of the multitude of thoughts and feelings going through the exhausted teen’s mind.


	3. Teasing

Logan was sitting on the couch with his favorite stuffed cat under his arm, his head pounding from a bad day as he scrolled through the latest chapter in his favorite webcomic. Virgil was on speaker phone with Uncle Patton on the other side of the room, just discussing life in general.

“They’re already pushing for students to enroll for their next semester.” Patton was saying. “Roman still isn’t finished with this semester. He’s got three big projects left and a thousand word paper he’s co-writing with someone who, and I’m quoting here, ‘Writes as if he’s making compost’ so he’s having to do most of the work. I don’t know how they expect them to handle it all.”

Virgil nodded. “That reminds me,” he turned to get Logan’s attention, “your counselor called and said we need to register you for spring classes soon.”

Logan groaned, feeling tears spring to his eyes as he put his head down on the arm of the couch. “Can it wait until next week?” He felt an almost desperate ache in his chest that might have been reflected in his voice.

“The sooner the better so we don’t have a repeat of this semester but yeah, next week can work.”

Logan nodded and tried to get back to his phone, knowing this semester held the worst grades he’d ever gotten and he was terrified to admit it to his father. He hoped that would be the end of the conversation for that moment but his cousin seemed to have overheard.

“Yeah, come on, Logan, how could you ask for more time. Can’t you see how important this is?” Roman joked, an obvious smile in his voice. “College doesn’t like to wait, you know.”

Logan had his head in the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, feeling the tears run down his cheeks. Roman made another comment before Logan spoke. “Okay, I get it.” His voice broke halfway through.

Not wanting to be seen as vulnerable and finished with the conversation, he picked up the few things he’d removed from his room and stormed up the stairs, breezing past his startled father who got a good glimpse of his tear stained face.

“That went a bit too far, Roman.” was the last thing Logan heard before he closed his door. 

Carefully, he set his drink on the desk, amid the pages of work he’d spent hours on to prepare for final exams and worksheets covered in scrawled figures and equations, pages on which he’d spent days planning out fanfictions and family trees and a whole and two societies, writings that would prepare him to create yet another society. He then proceeded to flop face down on the bed he didn’t have the mental energy to make, rolling to grab his headphones and hook them up to his phone, turning the volume to two below max. His headache felt like it was gone due to the music vibrating at the same pulse as his scalp.

He laid back and tried to let the music drown out the thoughts but he couldn’t help but think that the semester had just ended two days ago and he was expected to enroll for another one in the most stressful time of his life. The holidays were just around the corner, he just came off a stressful and math heavy semester, he’d also just finished a very lengthy fanfic with very little responses to the whole thing, and was still having to wrap it up properly and prepare for another, a comfort character’s fan-established birthday was only a few days away and he’d been wanting to make something for that, and he’d been dealing with a pretty bad head space for the past few days.

His mental load was full and he was still being expected to put more on it. He knew he should tell his adoptive father about all the fanfiction writing he’d been doing and was still expecting to do but the last time he’d told anyone he was told it wasn’t a proper way to spend his time and that it should only be done if it was a stepping stone to actual original writing with the intention of getting it published. He knew Virgil was different, that he would probably encourage that behavior and tell him it was great that he was doing that, but old habits died hard so he kept everything to himself.

A few rounds of the song later, he heard a soft knock at his door. “Logan?” Virgil’s voice reached through it.

The teen sat up, pausing the music to take the headphones off. “Come in.” He was tired, eyes strained from both the headache and tears.

Virgil cracked the door open before letting it keep going slowly until he stepped inside, a glass of water in hand. “Hey, stardust. How are you feeling?”

Logan closed his eyes briefly, debating whether to tell him the truth or give the societal lie. When he opened them, Virgil was looking at him as if he hung on Logan’s next words, genuinely curious to know how he was doing. “I’m not doing so well, Dad.” Tears welled up again and he tried to blink them back.

“Oh, honey.” Virgil placed the water next to the abandoned drink, not glancing at the pages that were scattered on the surface, before moving toward the side of the bed. “I’m sorry about Roman, I didn’t realize he’d do that.”

Logan shook his head. “It’s not his fault. I’m the one who didn’t have the right mental space for his teasing and I reacted with unnecessary emotions. If anything, I should be apologizing to him.”

“What he said was out of line. It’s really no one’s fault.”

Logan leaned his head into Virgil’s side before turning to bury his face in it, not realizing how much he needed the comfort of his dad until that moment. Virgil just put his arms around him and ran his fingers through Logan’s hair as the teen cried it out again. When he calmed down they would talk about it and work it through but for that moment, Virgil comforted his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this was written in the heat of the moment and is filled with raw emotions, the IRL events took place early December of last year (and circumstances are changed slightly from what I went through, please don't think this is a direct translation of what happened)


End file.
